by Shan
Rozalyn held her head down and shook it. No matter what I said, I knew what I wanted and that was my wife and my kids. We’d put in too much time to let it go this easily over nothing.
“Look, I need you to do something for me. Taron was locked up the other day, I don’t know if you heard or not.”
“No, I didn’t know. Damn, first you, now him. What are they saying he did?” Rozalyn asked with a look of concern.
“Bunch of craziness, but I got a call from Larry a few minutes ago saying he needed me to bring him one hundred thousand dollars so he can bail Taron out. They set his damn bond at a million dollars.”
“Wow, what the fuck did he do?” Rozalyn inquired again.
“It don’t matter. I need you to go over to the lil’ spot where I got my cars put up in storage. Look in the trunk of the Buick and there should be a duffle bag filled with money. Don’t touch shit else, just grab the money, and call me when you got it so I can get my bruh up out of there.”
“Okay, where is the key to the storage compartment Tae?” Rozalyn asked as she ran her hands through her bob.
“Shit,” I looked down at my keys and realized I had a key and Taron had a key. I knew he left a set of keys at the club but I wasn’t sure where or even if they were there. I could only hope that they were. “Check his office at the club. Somewhere in his office he has a set of keys to all my shit. Go through there and check then call me back.”
“Alright, I’ll go right now,” she said. “Love you,” she added.
“Love you too baby. Aye big man-am I gonna see you soon?”
“Yep,” he eagerly said and we ended the Skype call. I closed the laptop and sat back in my seat.
“That was a little intense.”
I rolled my chair around and looked at Passion who came to the end of the bed wearing nothing but my t-shirt and a thong. She was only supposed to be the babysitter, but you know how that shit goes.
“My life is intense,” I said and grabbed my drink from the table and downed the remainder of it.
“Well, if she ain’t trying to be a homemaker then I damn sure will. I wish a nigga would put me up and tell me to take care of home, but it ain’t no niggas like that in Dallas,” Passion scoffed.
“You sure about that? It’s plenty of good dudes out there, you just have to know how to find them,” I said and leaned all the way back in my chair.
I looked at Passion and noticed she was very beautiful. She had pretty light skin and a bad ass figure. But hell, it was so evident she just didn’t know any better. After me only knowing her for a few hours, she sucked my dick and eagerly jumped in my bed a couple of days later.
She was very aware that I was married and had children, but that didn’t stop her. She wasn’t wifey material at all. Knowing what I know about her, I could never wife a chick like her. My wife might have done some hoish things but if she’d been like this in the beginning, she would’ve never been my wife.
An hour and a half had gone by with me just chilling around the room, talking to Passion, and taking care of Trina. I got to know some things about a few niggas around the way, who to look out for, and who I should be checking for. After getting a little antsy waiting on Rozalyn to call me back, I decided to hit her back instead.
“What’s up? Why you ain’t call me back?” I asked the moment Rozalyn answered the phone.
“Cause I’ve been looking all over this storage for a black duffle bag. There wasn’t one in the Buick nor was it one in the Impala. I looked in all the boxes, I looked in this lil’ locker too, and nothing,” Rozalyn replied sounding out of breath.
“What you mean nothing? I just put a good six stacks there the last time I came and the bag was there then. Full of fucking money!” I exploded.
“Well it’s not now Tamar! What do you want me to do because I don‘t see it.”
“Shit,” I exhaled wondering where the hell my money could’ve gone to.
I know for a fact the bag was there when I went to check on my Moms because I added a few stacks to it. The only person that knew the money was there was me and Taron-and now Rozalyn. If it was missing, that meant Taron had touched it and hadn’t told me.
To give me time to figure this shit out, I told Rozalyn I would get back to her in a few. Why would Taron touch my shit and not tell me? I wondered as I hung up the phone.
20 LATOYA
A few days later
Taron’s cell phone was going straight to voicemail every time I called and had been like this for the past few days. No one was picking up his office phone either. After going by there and seeing that the club had been shut down with police tape all around it, I was more than worried.
I had also gone by his mom’s house and even called her but came up with a dead end. There was a FOR SALE sign in her yard and her number had been changed. I guess after the attack on her and Taylana, Tamar had immediately gotten them up out of there.
I hated to deal with this insecure bitch, Journey, but it appeared that I didn’t have any other choice. Every time we spoke, she always tried to make it seem like I just flat out disrespected her and tried to start up shit, but that was far from the truth. I guess she figured the more she lied, the further she could put distance between me and Taron. Tuh!
Something was going on with my baby’s father and I needed to get some answers. There was some important shit that he and I needed to discuss. I just hoped he wasn’t trying to pull no shady move such as up and moving without telling me or his daughter.
I had to admit, my feelings for Taron was deep as fuck right now. It was something like the feelings I used to have for Keylan at one point-then for Kevin-and now for Taron. Considering the circumstances surrounding us, I know he didn’t believe we should be together; but I didn’t care what other people thought about me. We had a family to think about and why shouldn’t a family be together?
I pulled my car in front of Taron’s home and noticed Journey’s car was the only one parked in the driveway. There was a possibility that Taron’s car could have been in the garage but I seriously doubted that, which meant he wasn’t home. Disappointment began to set-in as I got out of the car and walked up the sidewalk to the door.
`I pressed the doorbell twice and waited for Journey to answer. Pulling my shades over my head, I rubbed my eyes to wipe away some of the weariness that had built up, and shook away tears that were starting to form.
“Hey Toya,” Journey said as she answered the door.
Once again, she looked as if she had been dragged through the mud. This time, I could smell the remnants of the liquor that she’d downed. The shit was foul as hell and she looked was even fouler. This shit is ridiculous. I don’t see how any bitch could constantly allow themselves to look this fucking bad and not even think twice about it.
“Where is Taron? I’ve been calling him,” I said wrinkling my nose up in repulsion.
“Taron was locked up the other day on some money laundering charges or some shit;” she yawned hitting me with what smelled like old ass Courvoisier and Vodka. That used to be my shit so I would know that smell anywhere. I tried my hardest not to show how sickened I was by the sight of her but it was hard as hell.
“He was locked up? And you didn’t see the need to call me?” I asked wondering why I wasn’t informed.
I know the bitch has my number because she always shoots a bitch a text whenever Taron’s ass seemed to be lost and she was looking for him.
“He didn’t tell me to call you.” She yawned again and this time I couldn’t hide the displeasure on my face. I hit her ass with a shit faced look and crossed my arms. “Damn girl! You don’t think you need to clean yourself up-maybe brush your teeth or something? Your man gets locked up and you sit around drowning yourself in liquor, looking like you just got ran over by a bus.” Bummy bitch! The fuck is wrong with Taron? I know he
don’t expect me to believe that they getting married in a few months. Hell nah, this bitch is too tired. Busted ass.
Journey went to straighten up her hair and fix her clothing but what good would that do? According to her, Taron was sitting in jail on some money laundering charges. And instead of trying to make herself useful, she was getting tilted and throwing herself a pity party. And for what? Somebody need to throw a pity party in my honor and his for having to even look at this hoe.
I shook my head; “I guess I’ll go down and try to see what I can find out. I don’t know what the hell Taron sees in you. You’re a fuckin’ drunk that can’t have kids-and can’t even hold her man down when he’s down and out.” I’m sorry but I just couldn’t hold back. This is what was holding Taron back from being with his family? The nerve of him and her.
“That’s not fair Toya, I’m going through some things right now and-you don’t know what it’s like being me;” she whined as if she was gonna get some sympathy out of me.
“You right, I don’t know what it’s like being you and I damn sure don’t want to ever find out. I just know God knows who should and who shouldn’t have kids. I think he made the right choice, don’t you,” I asked before turning to walk away.
“I’m gonna have Taron’s child and when I do, he’s gonna forget all about Keymari! Just wait!” She yelled in that bourgeois tone of hers as I got in my ride.
The bitch still was saying my daughter’s name wrong and Taron wondered why I didn’t want the hoe around my child. Drunk, crackhead looking bitch. I thought and sped off down the street.
21 TARON
“A’ight sis, I appreciate you for chilling out and picking me up today,” I said as Rozalyn pulled in front of my home.
I’d sat down at the Federal Bureau of Investigations headquarters office being questioned for hours and then thrown into lock up for a few days until someone could come and get me out.
The whole arrest was about my connection and involvement in a money laundering scheme that Donald was so called running. I had no idea what the fuck was going on, but I knew Donald had set me up to make it seem as if I was running money through the club for him.
I was sure my lawyer could prove that I had absolutely nothing to do with the money laundering situation. Especially, since everything that was brought through the club was legit and accounted for. Tamar didn’t play that shit and was very adamant about not wanting Club Revolver to be linked back to any drugs.
He only used it to get a small percentage of money from and so that he could use it as a front for a bank account that he’d opened. Other than that, there were no drugs running through here and we wasn’t washing up no bills for no fuckin’ Italians.
I didn’t even want to explain my involvement with Donald; mainly, because I was too embarrassed and ashamed to let anyone know I’d been dealing with him. This cat wanted my brother dead and I was breaking bread with him and setting up business deals.
I know I had to look shady in the eyes of some. Therefore, I know the minute Tamar found out, if he hadn’t already, he would definitely think a nigga was doing some foul shit.
“It’s not a problem Taron, we gotta look out for each other. I hope all is well with you though. You look stressed,” Rozalyn said as she looked me over.
I scoffed, “Stressed is not even the word. Can’t believe I done got in bed with the FBI.”
“Don’t worry, you know Tamar is gonna work everything out for you. Get you some rest, because you look like you need it, and if you’re feeling up to it, stop by Kevin’s to see the kids. We’re gonna catch a flight out and surprise Tamar tomorrow evening.”
“Word? That’s what’s up Rozalyn. Get your ass out there with your husband and stop playing around,” I chuckled and opened the passenger side door. “Cool, I’ll be through there around noon. I have to get up here to this club and see if they’re gonna allow me to open.”
Before stepping out of the car, I leaned over and kissed Rozalyn on her cheek. The block was very dark and quiet as it usually was at night. There were only the random dogs barking along with unidentifiable sounds that echoed through the trees. I pulled out my set of keys and unlocked the door to my home.
As I walked through the door, I halfway expected Journey to come running to me and jump in my arms, but I knew it wasn’t gonna happen. The moment I was released from that place, I hit her up a few times but not once did I get a response from her.
My only hope was that she missed me as much as I missed her. I hadn’t been gone that damn long but being away and knowing I could go back if I was found guilty, made me appreciate what I had at home even more.
I wanted to push our wedding date up, go on a honeymoon, and then come back and get Journey some help for her drinking problem. While she was away in rehab, I was going to do my research and find the best fertility doctor in America. I knew there was someone who could help us.
Whatever it cost to get whatever we needed done, I was willing to pay the price. If it meant I had to work harder at the club or even step foot back in the drug game for a little while, I would. I wanted Journey to be happy with me and I wanted to be happy with her.
I was done fooling with Latoya and that was a promise I was making to myself. And the moment I speak with Latoya, it would be a promise I’ll be making to her.
I tossed my keys on the coffee table, eyed the empty bottle of Courvoisier, and knew what time it was. Journey was in her usual slumber and that was most likely the reason why she hadn’t answered the phone. I started for the bedroom when I noticed a pill container which was sitting right next to the empty liquor bottle.
I walked over to the table, grabbed the pill container, and noted it had been cleaned out.
“Alprazolam?” I questioned, trying to remember exactly what the doctor had given Journey these pills for.
I looked at the date on the bottle and saw the prescription was only ten days old, a quantity of ninety, and a thirty-day supply. I gazed around the living area to see if perhaps Journey had spilled some of the pills while she was drunk. But I only spotted a few of them on the floor in front of the couch.
Getting down on my knees, I searched under the couch and didn’t find anymore. I pulled the pillows away from the couch, threw them across the room, and frantically hunted for the remainder of the pills that should have been in that bottle. I didn’t find anything.
I looked down the hall toward where my bedroom was located and spotted a dim light coming from that direction. Part of me wanted to turn around and walk back out the door, knowing I was gonna find some shit I didn’t want to see.
“Aww fuck, fuck, fuck!” I began to feel fidgety and apprehensive as I made my way down the darkened hall.
Sweat began to pour from my forehead as it always did whenever my nerves got the best of me. The past few weeks just hadn’t been remarkable.
First my mother and sister are attacked by some damn goblins, Tamar gets locked up for murder, gets right out and makes me the accomplice in another one, I get set-up for fucking money laundering-and now...this. I stopped in the doorway and just looked.
It was all I could do at the moment. My mind had completely gone blank and every bone in my body seemed to lock up on me. I didn’t know how to react to the sight before me or even what I should do. I backed out of the room, down the hallway, and went to grab the house phone that sat on its charger.
I dialed the first number that came to mind, said a few quick words into the receiver when they answered, and just waited.
I slid down the wall in my hallway and buried my head against my knees. Maybe things weren’t as bad as I was feeling they were. Maybe Tamar being suspected of murder and then turning around and committing one wasn’t that bad. He always seemed to get out of situations and make them disappear as if they had never existed.
Me stealing from him and getting locked up on money launde
ring charges for doing business with the enemy might not have been so bad. He was my brother so it wasn’t like he would turn his back on me-right? And this shit here. This shit here wasn’t as bad as it seemed-right?
“Taron, what’s going on? Where is she?” Rozalyn asked scaring me from my thoughts.
I hadn’t even heard her come through the front door, didn’t even hear her walk up on me. She began to turn on lights in the house as she walked past me and headed down the hall to my bedroom. Seeing the reaction on her face and how she ran inside the room, I guess it really was as bad as it had first seemed.
“Ron call for an ambulance! Hurry up!” Rozalyn yelled but I still couldn’t move. It was like I was frozen in time. “Ron, she’s barely breathing! What are you doing?”
I looked up at Rozalyn as she peeked around the door at me. Hearing her say the word “breathing” gave me a little hope. Okay, maybe it wasn’t as bad as it seemed.
***
Finally, I came out of my state of shock and called an ambulance for Journey. When I saw her lying across our bedroom floor, butt naked, with an empty bottle of liquor next to her head, I had assumed she was dead.
The doctors had to pump her stomach of the pills she had swallowed as well as treat her for the alcohol poisoning she suffered as a result of downing two bottles of Courvoisier like it had been water. Damn, I knew Journey was bad but I didn’t realize she was this bad off.
She damn near killed herself and had done so intentionally. I just hoped like hell the doctors were able to save her life and get her through this so I could let her know my plans. I was gonna fight like crazy to stay out of jail so we could get married and have this damn baby.
“Journey Davis?” A man in a white lab coat asked as he came out to the waiting room.
“Yeah, I’m her fiancé,” I said, and stood up.
Just then it was the first time that I’ve used the tag fiancé in a long time. I’d spent so much time lying up in Latoya’s bed, wishing Journey possessed some of her attributes, and a lot less of her own that I hadn’t realized I had stopped claiming her.